Turnerabout
by Lonestarr
Summary: Things always look stranger from the other side of the mirror.
1. Schooled

Disclaimer: "The Fairly Oddparents" belongs to Butch Hartman and Nickelodeon. This may not seem all that important to you, but I have to mention it. Besides, these little stories I write can be much more fulfilling.

Chapter 1 - Schooled

In this building, several young people pursue an education, in the hopes of starting them off on the path to success. There are those, however, for whom an education is secondary to talking with friends or getting a hot lunch. Through the hallway, a number of students commute, creating a ruckus of half-heard comments and squeaking footwear.

One of the students holds his books in one hand and heads toward a classroom. He is halfway through the door as he looks at an older student in a letterman jacket. The athlete has a book in one hand and an amorous cheerleader in the other. Her arms are wrapped around him as the athletic type puts the book in his locker.

The younger man snorts and walks inside.

XxXxXxXxX

"Thank God that's over."

The student feels a great sense of relief as he walks down the hall among fellow teenagers. It's not that he hates his classes. It's just that the freshman feels them to be a pain. To hear him tell it, he is one of those who prioritizes socializing above school.

"There will be some good news for you, tomorrow, class." Given how dull his classes could be, it was little wonder that Timmy took to mocking his teachers.

The crowd seems to disperse as the young man pulls a yellow piece of paper from his pocket. He unfolds it, all the while continuing his stride. It looks to be a computer printout.

"'History' is history, so there's 'Math 9', 'P.E.', then 'Spanish'."

He stares intently at the schedule…so much that he doesn't notice being lifted off of the ground. Two older boys, each in letterman jackets, hold on to him. The freshman puts the paper back in his pocket.

He tries to walk off, but finds himself walking on air. He looks on either side and, for the first time, acknowledges his 'handlers'.

"Oh, hey, guys." The (…he can only assume that they're) jocks don't say a word. "Uh, you can just drop me anywhere."

XxXxXxXxX

The two older guys toss their victim onto the floor of the girl's bathroom.

He groans and tries to push himself up with his hands. "You guys couldn't have chosen someplace less…pink?"

"Hey, there." A smooth voice rings through the lavatory.

The freshman looks up at the speaker. It's the student he saw pawing the cheerleader before class.

"Oh, hey, Pat. How's it going?" The boy on the floor may as well be polite. The guy standing over him looks like he can cause him great harm.

"Good. Good." Pat nods his head. "Except I've got nosy freshmen staring at me and my best girl like we were a freakin' peep show! You wouldn't know anyone like that, would you?"

"Mmmm…can't say that I do." The two carriers grab the young man's arms.

"'Cause, like all peep shows, this one costs money."

One of the thugs kicks open a stall. They drag the boy in.

"You do have money, yes?"

"I'm a little light until the weekend. Sorry."

"Oh, don't be." Pat looks to the two 'escorts'. "Flush this crap."

They stick his head into the toilet. The one on the left pushes the toilet handle with his foot. The freshman tries to force his way out, but the jocks' weight is too much for him. His arms go limp and the jocks stand up.

"Keep your nose out of my business, freshman."

The three older boys walk out, leaving their victim in the bowl.

XxXxXxXxX

A dark-haired girl washes her hands. She turns off the faucet and grabs a couple of paper towels. As she dries herself off, she gets a glance at herself in the mirror. The girl is somewhat entranced by her reflection.

A choking sound from one of the stalls interrupts her. She turns toward the source.

The young man grabs onto the toilet bowl and pulls himself up. He spits out a mouthful of water.

"Timmy?" She seems to be more surprised at the boy before her than the fact that a boy is in here.

"Tootie!"

"What are you doing here?"

"I was feeling a little dirty, so I decided to take a shower." The tone of his voice adopts a surprising coolness.

The girl eyes Timmy with suspicion. "A shower? With your clothes on?"

He blinks his blue eyes. "I'm in kind of a hurry."

"You know, you don't have to put up a front with me." There is warmth in her words.

"What front? What are you talking about?" His deepening voice is full of apprehension.

A light snicker escapes her lips. "Some jocks gave you a swirly." The boy looks away. "How long have we known each other, Timmy?"

"I don't know, five, six years?"

"Right, and you really need to delineate between regular and rhetorical questions." Tootie takes a few paper towels from the dispenser and hands them to the young man.

He grabs them and dries his face.

She reaches her hand out, but quickly withdraws it. "Timmy?"

"What? Oh, thanks." He tosses the towels into the garbage can and heads for the door.

"You're welcome." The brunette sees him. "Timmy?"

"What is it, Tootie?"

"If you ever want to talk or…anything, you know where you can find me."

He walks out before she finishes. The girl takes a few more sheets and wipes her eyes. One would never know to look at her, but she has quite a crush on the young man she was trying to console.

As a child, Tootie's overly affectionate manner scared him off to the point where he wanted nothing to do with her. She resolved to calm down in his presence one New Years' Eve.

The door swings closed. She brings another sheet to her moist violet eyes.

XxXxXxXxX

Timmy rushes to a classroom. It wasn't all easy going, though: there was the matter of getting the necessary notes and textbook from his locker. Then, there was the fact that the class convened on the third floor. He was on the first floor and the elevators were for teachers only. What a life.

He takes a seat behind a dark-haired girl in the corner. Given her manner of dress (a designer blouse and a skirt that shows off her long legs), she seems to want the world to know that she is someone of importance. A lot of people know her as 'one of the most unattainable girls in the school', but Timmy has always known her as…

"Trixie?" The boy whispers.

She doesn't turn around. He frowns and leans in closer.

"Trixie?"

The girl leans back somewhat. "Do you mind? If I have to learn, I'd much rather do it without distraction."

"I just want to know if I've missed anything."

"I can't tell. _Someone_ keeps talking to me."

Timmy looks around a bit. "Well, that's not right."

Trixie straightens up in her chair. "No, it isn't."

The boy leans forward yet again. "Could you point him out to me?"

The brunette growls a little. A devious smile tugs at her lips. "Sure." She reaches into her purse and pulls out a compact. She hands it to him. "Here he is."

Timmy takes it. "Whoa." He checks his face. "How long have I had this zit?"

"Mr. Turner! Miss Tang!" The conversing students look toward the front of the room. A balding man in an eye-catching tweed and glasses ensemble glares at the talkative ones. "What is so interesting that you must interrupt my class?"

"Well, I was just trying to find out about the lesson that I may have missed…"

"I was paying attention, Mr. Lewiston, but he just kept on going. He doesn't care…"

The educator puts his hand up, in no mood to hear the dueling explanations. "Never mind. You two will have plenty of time to make this up in detention."

The two students groan in unison. Timmy lets his forehead fall to his desk. Trixie leans back once more. "I hope you're happy."

He doesn't move. "Do I look happy?"

XxXxXxXxX

The angered brunette sulks out of the classroom amidst the happiness of everyone else. Of course, they were of good cheer. _They_ didn't have to stay after school. Trixie Tang wasn't - isn't - the type to get detention. Other kids get detention, while she silently mocks them.

'It's not fair.' She thinks to herself. 'Damn that boy…what's-his-name.' The girl makes her way to her locker.

Trixie is used to having things her own way. She figured if she could rule elementary school, then high school would be a snap. The first week of school, her eyes were opened in a big way. Girls more stuck-up than she could ever have imagined pretty much shot her down when she attempted to join up with them.

As with a number of situations where one finds themselves in a frightening and unfamiliar environment, it helps to have a friend.

Trixie opens the door of her locker and puts her books in. She looks both ways down the corridor. The coast is clear.

Attached to the door with a butterfly magnet is a picture of her with her arm around another girl, her blonde hair in a ponytail. The brunette sighs deeply at the photo.

She takes the snapshot from its resting place and hugs it to her reasonably developed chest.

A tear falls down her face. "Veronica."


	2. Trippin'

Chapter 2 - Trippin'

"_I said I had good news for you, and here it is."_

The sun shines in the sky, something of a contrast to the stiff September wind that invited itself in through the open window.

The primary sound heard in history class was the teacher droning on about some person or event that was meant to be of great significance. Acting as counterpoint were the snoring and weary sighs of the students she was charged with educating.

Today, however, the classroom is abuzz with excited chatter.

"Yes, class. We will be going on a field trip." The middle-aged woman at the blackboard speaks with authority.

The chatter picks up with greater frequency.

"A field trip to the natural history museum."

Where there was once a chorus of elated chatter, there now existed a Black Mass of loud groaning. Surely, they didn't expect anything else from _history_ class.

"There, we will gather knowledge on various exhibits and artifacts, and I expect each of you to turn in a four-page report on what you saw and it's place in the past…"

One of the mouths doing the groaning belonged to Timmy, who rolls his eyes at the new assignment. A brand new groan emerges from his lips.

Looking at him from the next row is Tootie. Having taken notes on the assignment (as is her wont), she gazes at the brown-haired boy.

Timmy takes a glance behind him. He knows that the bespectacled brunette who covets his heart is in this class, and while she has kept her distance, he can't help but get annoyed at her staring.

A hand belonging to a student in front of Timmy shoots through the air.

"Mrs. Grace, what if we are unable to find an exhibit to write about?" This individual looks every bit the image of a high school slacker; hoping to get through the next four years with as little effort as possible.

The woman rubs her temples. Did every class have to have one of these? "There are plenty of items at the museum. You'll be able to find something." She turns to the blackboard and starts to erase it. "Now, we'll be leaving at two o'clock. Some of you may miss your last classes, but it's still early in the year yet."

Timmy breathes a sigh of relief. Chemistry was his last class and one where missing it may do some good.

XxXxXxXxX

As expected, the day passed with little notice. For the young man, if there was something of interest happening in a later part of the day, it was worth wading through the not-so-good stuff to get to it. Even if it was just fodder for an assignment, it was a chance to get out of school early.

The students reconvened in Mrs. Grace's room, bags and coats in hand. It was obvious that they would not be returning to the school.

"Does everyone have their things?"

A collective, annoyed 'Yes' reverberates through the room. It's not like they were in elementary school anymore.

"Good. Let's go."

The students file out of the room.

XxXxXxXxX

The group moves past a few students at their lockers. Timmy gazes back at one of them - Trixie. He can't help but sigh. Why couldn't they have history together?

Tootie takes a gander at the situation and lets out a low growl. Would it have to be like this for the rest of their lives: her seething while the man of her dreams lusts after another? She can no longer keep her feelings bottled up. She yells loudly. This action does not go unnoticed.

"Is there a problem, Miss Flanagan?"

Tootie sighs deeply. "No, Mrs. Grace."

"Well, fine." The group continues walking, led by the educator. Tootie grasps the strap of her backpack. Granted, the matters of her heart were giving her problems, but almost as bothersome (in her estimation) was the onset of…womanhood. Her mother warned her that there would be mood swings…and pain. One of the stronger disadvantages of possessing an x-chromosome.

XxXxXxXxX

"And this is the Sforza." Mrs. Grace gestures toward a bronze horse that looks to be in mid-stride. "Sculpted by Leonardo Da Vinci, it was the last commission to the Duke of Milan…"

Some of the students listen with rapt attention, but to most, the educator's words fade into nothingness.

"And over here, we have a priceless vase. One of several owned by members of what Asian dynasty? Anyone?"

The hands of the attentive ones, Tootie included, shoot into the air. The woman ignores them. Her fickle finger of fate wiggles amongst the dazed and confused.

"Mr. Turner?"

"What? I mean, yes?"

"What dynasty did this vase come from?"

Timmy bites down on his lip. Why did she have to choose him? It's not like he's the only kid in class. He glances around nervously. His eyes pass by Tootie, who seems to be mouthing the word 'ming'.

"Um…Ming?"

"Very good. It's nice to see you paying attention." Mrs. Grace leads her charges further along.

"Um, you're welcome, Timmy."

"For what? I'd have gotten it, sooner or later."

The dark-haired girl sighs deeply. It was times like this that the girl would wonder if it was even worth the trouble.

XxXxXxXxX

The trip continued for another hour with little variation: spotting an item, a bit of history and a pop quiz, which, more often than not spelled humiliation for those who wouldn't be caught dead here even if it was for school.

Mrs. Grace had assigned the students into teams of two, sending them to find items about which to write.

"So, what are you going to write about, Timmy?"

Given the boy's recent run of luck, he wasn't terribly surprised by his chosen partner.

"I don't know, yet? Maybe if people won't ask me, I can concentrate on finding something."

A hurt look on her face, Tootie turns toward a wall of antiquities. Vases, bowls and other items lay before her.

Timmy walks past an artifact protected by a glass case, then quickly goes back to it. It is a carving with the face of a jackal. He moves to the other side and finds the exact same carving.

Going back to his original place of discovery, he finds a plaque. It reads, "Perspectus Inversi".

"This is weird."

"What's weird, Timmy?" The boy gags. He hadn't meant to say it as loud as he did.

"Just some dusty old artifact that's really nobody's business."

Tootie puts her hands on her hips. "Well, if it's in this museum, somebody must think it to be important."

"Is there an expiration date on this conversation, like ten seconds ago?"

"Timmy, I just want to help you. Why won't you open up to me?"

"Because it's you, for one thing. For another, I don't feel like opening up."

She reaches her hand to his shoulder. "Whatever's wrong, I can help you. Why don't you see that?"

He smacks it away. "Just leave me alone!"

Tootie's arm stretches out as she falls backward. The appendage knocks the glass case over, causing it to shatter into pieces.

"_What in the world was that?"_

"Oh, man. Look what you did!"

Tootie sits up against the wall and rubs the back of her head. "I wasn't the one who pushed me away."

The artifact wobbles on its stand. "Never mind that. The statue!" It falls to the ground. Tootie rushes toward it at the same time Timmy turns around.

They grab it at the same time just before it lands. "Well, that was close." Timmy tries to put the carving on its stand, but it seems to be stuck.

"Let go!" He gives it a tug, pulling Tootie's arm with it.

"You let go!"

"If I could let it go, I would. It's stuck or something."

"You know, if you hadn't pushed me…"

"Will you let that freakin' drop? Why are you so clingy?"

"Why are you so cold!"

"Why is it your business! Understand that I could do so much better in terms of girls than you."

"Well, maybe I could find a better guy than you if I wanted."

"Fine with me!" With that statement, the carving begins to glow and shake. A bright light envelops it.

The two teens look at it worriedly. The light swallows them up and blazes through the whole room.

After what feels like an eternity, the light recedes. The artifact is safely under its glass case and the bodies of two students - a boy and a girl - lie in front of it on the floor.


	3. My Side of the Fence

Chapter 3 - My Side of the Fence

The students are gathered in the room with the carving. Mrs. Grace pushes her way through the crowd.

"Excuse me, please." She makes it and finds the boy and the girl on the floor.

One of the less studious types steps forward. His finger extends toward his classmates. "Isn't this cute? They're sleeping together." The teens burst into raucous laughter.

The educator rubs her temples and approaches the fallen ones. "Okay, so this may seen boring to you, but I didn't think it would put you to sleep." She bends down and shakes the girl lightly. Nothing. She shakes the boy a little harder. He is also motionless.

Mrs. Grace puts a hand over her face. "Oh, Lord."

"Ooooooooh…!" The international children's phrase meaning 'You're in trouble'. The students seem to know it well.

"That's not funny!" She places two fingers on each of their necks. "Thank goodness. They're still alive." She waves a few students over. Two of them each sling an arm around their necks and 'walk' them out.

XxXxXxXxX

"_So, they're okay?"_

"_I imagine that, with a good night's rest, they'll be good as new in the morning."_

"_Thank goodness."_

"_Again, I really don't know what happened, but I am deeply sorry."_

"_My child wasn't hurt and they'll be fine. What's there to be sorry about?"_

The teen overheard the conversation even as they slept. Of their own accord, fingers run along the fabric of the bed. It feels really soft…softer than it ever has. The teen chalked it up to the feeling of being in bed at night; when one's body is significantly relaxed and sensations of warmth are increased.

XxXxXxXxX

The sun peeks in through the window of the room, sparkling on the face of the occupant. The person covers their face to block the light. With a stretch, the brown-haired teen scratches their backside and stumbles out the bedroom door.

XxXxXxXxX

Water runs in the sink. A good portion of it gathers in two cupped hands. The person brings the liquid to their face.

"_Hurry up, dear. You don't want to be late for school!"_

"Coming, mother!" The teenager gives their throat a light pinch and clears their throat. No way in the world their voice was so high.

XxXxXxXxX

The teenager rubs their eyes as they re-enter the room in which they slept. A couple of blinks later, the minor shakes its head. What happened to this place? Sure, the same old action movie posters are there, but they were attached to a pink wall. The wall of the room is supposed to be blue!

The top drawer of the bureau is opened. There's bras and panties in here. Is this supposed to be someone's idea of a joke?

The teen walks by the full-body mirror and goes back to it. Giving a closer look, the teen is surprised by what they see. Granted, the hair is as brown as ever, but it flows down to just past the shoulders, the ends perfectly curled.

Where there would be a pair of boxers was now a pair of pink panties with a red heart on the back. (They seemed so cute a couple years ago.) Even more peculiar is that, instead of a t-shirt, there was a bra that barely contained a pair of D-cup breasts.

The brown-haired girl - at this point, there is no pretending - does the only thing she can think of…

"Moooooooom!" The cry came out much squeakier than she had wanted.

Moments later, Timmy's mother opens the door. "Oh, Tiffany. What is it?"

'Tiffany', the girl thought to herself. "My room! It…it's…!"

"Honey, I know you wanted a lighter shade of pink, but this was all the store had left. For the life of me, I can't understand why you wanted to keep these movie posters up. It's like they belong in a boy's room."

"Mom! My…" 'Tiffany' motions to her breasts. Clearly, this is still a shock to her.

"I know the bra seems small, but you were embarrassed by going shopping. I had no idea they'd turn out like this."

"But this isn't my body!"

"Oh, Tiffany, you say that now, but in time, you'll grow to love it." The woman gives her…daughter a big hug. "Now get dressed."

The woman walks out. As she does, Tiffany is sure she hears the words "Why couldn't _my_ boobs have been that big when I was her age?". The girl chokes a little and slumps down on her four-poster bed, complete with satin sheets.

The girl looks down at her new additions. She hops a little on the bed, her breasts bouncing a bit on her chest. A slight smirk appears on her face. Maybe this wouldn't be too bad.

XxXxXxXxX

The figure in the king-size bed tosses and turns, groaning deeply. It rolls onto its stomach, causing it to cry out. The person leaps out of bed and looks down. Instead of a nightie, the figure is clad in a t-shirt and boxers.

"Okay, this is weird." The voice coming out sounds somewhat deep, like a male voice. Of course, everything sounds weird when one gets up in the morning.

The figure disappears into the adjacent bathroom, the door closing behind them.

"_Oh, my God!"_

XxXxXxXxX

The reflection in the bathroom mirror is that of a young man. His looks, while not devastating, mark him as unconventional and his dark hair is tied back in a ponytail.

He slips his thumbs under the elastic waistband of his shorts. He takes a peek at the…thing taking up residence inside. It certainly wasn't there when the person went to bed last night…he was sure.

"_Virgil! Get ready for school!"_

The elastic snaps back. The young man doesn't know what to do. He had no idea how his parents would react to this. After all, they have two daughters: Vicky…and what used to be 'her'.

The person clears their throat. "Umm…coming." He tried to make the voice sound as feminine as possible, but it wasn't easy.

XxXxXxXxX

'Virgil' looks down at his…'special purpose', thumbs in elastic once more, and jiggles it around. "Wow. I never thought I'd see one like this."

The bedroom door opens. A red-haired man walks in. "Hey--whoa!"

The lad looks up. He covers himself up. "I'm so sorry, daddy. I just…"

"Hey, there's always time for that, sport. Just not now."

Virgil gives his father a shocked look.

"Your mom's making breakfast. You don't want to forget that."

"Um…sure."

"Great. See you soon."

Virgil looks around what seems to be his room. He didn't recognize anything. The room was blue-green, a far cry from the pink of yesterday. Also, the posters that were once on the walls - mainly of favorite musicians - were gone.

To the dark-haired young man, something was definitely wrong.

XxXxXxXxX

Tiffany walks down the crowded hallway, garnering stares from the male population. Much to her annoyance, all she had were blouses, dresses and skirts to wear. All of her pairs of pants were in the laundry. The light blue skirt she wore showed off her legs, which given her nervous expression wasn't her intent.

Her books are clutched to her chest. It's fairly normal for a young girl to be self-conscious about her looks, regardless of how impressive they are. Less normal is that this girl wasn't always a girl. Sure, she knew her boobs were spectacular, but there's no reason for everyone else to know.

"And I spilled my favorite black cherry nail polish all over the living room couch and my mom had a freakin' cow. I tried to tell her that it's no problem. Just get the cushions dry-cleaned or whatever. Then, she starts in like…"

If there was one thing about Lina, it's that she liked to talk…and talk. At first glance, one would consider her a gossip, but nothing could be further from the truth. She has no desire to go on about others, mainly because she considers them less interesting than herself. This causes her to talk at length about things that involve - and are of exclusive importance to - her.

Her latest free-form babble, about the events of last night, becomes white noise to her boyfriend, Pat.

"…then Dad gets in my face and I start crying, because he can never resist my tears, you know?"

Lina turns toward the jock. "Hello! Are you listening to me?"

He offers no response. She follows his gaze toward the brown-haired girl walking down the hall. Lina kicks his shin, eliciting a yell, and stomps off after the shy girl.

The older girl steps in front of Tiffany. "What do you think you're doing?

"Walking to my next class."

Lina extends her finger. "Listen. You see him?" Tiffany looks toward Pat. "That's my boyfriend. Not yours. Mine."

"Good. I don't want him." Tiffany walks away, rolling her eyes.

"So, what? Now, he's not good enough for you?"

The brown-haired girl sighs. "I hate high school."

A dark-haired girl by an open locker looks at the angry young miss stalking past her. She gives her a surprised look as she puts her long hair up, holding it with a pink scrunchie.

XxXxXxXxX

The rest of the day had gone by surprisingly fast. Tiffany was usually one to root for this, but more because of her irritation with her studies. Her amazingly feminine body gave her a new reason to dread school. Deep down, she was quite unnerved by all the stares she had received. After all, she wasn't born like this.

"Now, I hope all of you were able to find items about which to write." Mrs. Grace erases the blackboard. "These reports are due in two weeks."

The class groans.

"Miss Turner. Mr. Flanagan. I'd like to see the both of you after class." The bell rings and the students walk out. Tiffany and Virgil walk up to the teacher's desk.

"Now, if you two aren't up to completing the assignment, I understand."

Virgil speaks up. "It's no problem, ma'am. I just know I'll be able to get this done." As the young man talks, Tiffany stares at him.

"Very good. Tiffany?"

"Yes?"

"Will you be able to do the assignment?"

"Yeah. Sure." Given the hurried tone in her voice, the girl didn't seem to be listening. She still stares at the boy.

"Wonderful. You have two weeks." Mrs. Grace shuffles some papers and leaves the room.

Tiffany shakes her head. "It can't be."

Virgil grabs the girl's hand. "Yes, it can. We need to talk."


	4. New and Improved

Chapter 4 - New and Improved

Virgil wears an annoyed expression on his face as he walks down the hall. Tiffany walks with him inasmuch that she is dragged around by the dark-haired boy.

"How did you even know it was me?"

"I'm still me inside, so I figured that you might still be you, even with…different packaging. That reminds me, could you have drawn a little _more_ attention to yourself?"

"What do you mean?" The girl sounds a little nervous.

"I caught you staring at your boobs."

"Hey! It's not like I asked for this size." Tiffany puts her hands to her chest, almost like she was framing it. "And you think that something at the museum may have done this to us?"

"I can't think of anything else. Now we just need to go back to the museum and find the thing that changed us. We can go after school. That's the earliest time before any suspicion can be raised."

At these last couple of statements, Tiffany slips her dainty hand out of her companion's grasp. "Hey, where's the fire? There's nothing saying we _have_ to change back so soon, is there?"

"So you _like_ being a girl, Timmy?"

"He" perks up. "I can think of a couple reasons."

Virgil narrows his eyes. "Not funny."

"Come on. A dude would find that hilarious."

"Yeah. Too bad for you I'm _not_ a dude, just like you are not a chick!"

"What's that matter? If you've got it, flaunt it." Tiffany strikes a pose, her hand on her hip.

"Wow." Coming up behind Virgil is Trixie, who brightens at seeing the girl. "I don't think I've ever seen you around here before."

"Well…I guess we don't run in the same circles."

"I guess we need to change that, don't we?" The rich girl turns to Virgil. "And who's this? This wouldn't happen to be your boyfriend, would it?"

Tiffany glares at him. "No. No it wouldn't." The tone of the girl's voice is cold enough to freeze water.

"Oh." Trixie pats his backside, eliciting a blush from the boy. "Well, I guess I'll see you later." The dark-haired girl strolls away.

"I guess so", Tiffany says to no one in particular. She heads off in the opposite direction.

Virgil gags a little. "He" had wanted to be flirted with, but not like this.

XxXxXxXxX

One situation for which no one can be prepared is becoming a member of the opposite gender, but if one is forced to prepare, it helps for one to have assistance.

"You're gonna teach me what?" The girl is near hysteria with her question.

"How to walk", the boy states matter-of-factly.

"I know how to walk, Tootie."

"Yes, as a man, but you don't exactly fit that category right now. Also, there's a certain way that women carry themselves: graceful, swan-like. You can't just trudge along."

"Who's gonna care how I walk?" The girl puts her hands on her hips. She seems to take this personally.

"People with eyes, for one thing." The boy motions to the people walking in the park. "Now, watch me." Virgil does a feminine stride, waving his arm for emphasis.

Tiffany barely contains a snicker. "You look really g…"

The boy stops suddenly and turns, a finger extended. "Don't say it."

"I was gonna say 'girly'."

"I'm a girl, remember? Now you try."

"Fine." Mimicking Virgil's arm wave, Tiffany walks around. The boy gives a nod of approval…until he sees the girl's hips swaying back and forth. The girl catches him staring. "Like what you see?"

The boy grunts in disgust. "Don't flatter yourself." He bends over a little and groans.

Tiffany runs to his side. "What's wrong?"

"I'm never going to get used to this." Virgil's voice is strained, like he's carrying a great weight.

The girl looks at herself, then at the crouched way he's bent. "Of course." The girl nods her head. "I knew I looked good."

Virgil tries to stand up, pulling his shirt over the front of his pants. "Right. Also, do you really need to have your arm out?"

"_You_ did." Tiffany punctuates the comment with a smug smile.

Virgil groans as he stands before the girl.

"So, how'd I do?"

"Mmmm…not bad."

"That's good enough for me." Tiffany walks toward the cobblestone path.

Virgil chases after her. "Is there anything I need to know about being a guy; using the bathroom and like that?"

"Just let it flow and eyes on your own junk." The attitude of the girl seems strangely casual.

The boy adjusts his glasses. "Gotcha."

"Is there anything I need to know about being a woman?"

"Not much. You ever sit down to pee?" The girl hesitates; inside, she's all man. "Timmy!"

"Once or twice."

"Good, then you're set. Oh, and no feeling yourself up, especially in public. That's the kind of thing that people view as weird."

"What! It's not like this is your body I'm in!"

"I mean it, Timmy. Look, but don't touch…or look."

"Fine. Same goes for you."

"Please. I have some self-control."

Tiffany waves her hand. "Eh. That won't last long."

XxXxXxXxX

Several pointers later, the teens went home. Though she expressed annoyance on more than one occasion, Tiffany had to admit to herself (but not Virgil) that these tips were fairly useful. Virgil, "himself", was annoyed for a different reason: the museum was closed for re-painting. The soonest that they could attempt a switch was two days.

At their respective houses, they glanced at old photo albums. Virgil picked up on the fact that this is how their lives would have gone had they been born the opposite gender. He couldn't help but share this news with Tiffany. He felt it necessary for them to have each other's numbers to update them on any…unusual happenings. She, meanwhile, was shocked at all of her feminine clothing; would she even be wearing all of this in her lifetime?. The two of them slept pretty well, all things considered.

The following morning, they went to school, where things were fairly normal…for the first few hours, at least.

Virgil opened his locker and grabbed a folder. English class was his favorite. Absorbing the literature of so many revered writers allowed him escape from the inanity of his classmates.

As he closed it… "Heads up!"

A football flew into his hands, causing his folder to fall to the floor. He spots a bunch of jocks running toward him. Part of him was thinking, "Good God, I don't want to die.", while another part was thinking, "Jesus, why do seniors get to do whatever the hell they want?"

The older students stop short of slamming the boy into the lockers. One of them steps forward. "Nice catch, bruh. Ever think of going out for football?"

Virgil clears his throat. "N-not really. I need to focus on my studies."

The jocks erupt with laughter. One of them slaps Virgil's back, sending his glasses flying. He reaches up and grabs them before they hit the floor.

The bell rings. The jocks head down the hallway. "Good hands. I'm Pat, by the way."

"Honor's all yours. I'm Virgil."

"Weird name, but you seem like a good guy." Pat runs off. "See you 'round."

Virgil waves half-heartedly. "Yeah…right."

XxXxXxXxX

In the cafeteria, students talk, study, goof off…pretty much everything except eating goes on in the area. With a tray full of food, Tiffany walks around, looking for a space. The student body seems to be even more cliquish than she anticipated. A dainty hand waves in the air.

"Hey!" It's Trixie and she looks very happy to see her.

Tiffany looks behind her from both sides. She puts a hand up and gestures, as if to say, "Who, me?"

Trixie repeats the welcome. Tiffany shrugs and walks over. The brown-haired girl sits down.

"So, what's your name?"

"Ti…ffany."

"I'm Trixie. You know, there's something about you I can't put my finger on."

"Like we've met before?" There is hope in the girl's voice.

"No. Like we could be great friends."

"Oh. I guess that's good." Before she can do anything else, Tiffany feels herself wrapped in a big hug.

"That's better than good." A perpetual burn-out passes by the table and sees the outpour of affection.

"Hey. Get a room."

Tiffany peels Trixie off of her and glares at the offender. "Get bent, loser."

The dark-haired girl was stung by that comment. For some reason, her mind goes right to her friend. Her best friend.

XxXxXxXxX

"Oh, mom, will we ever get back to Dimmsdale?"

A middle-aged woman with blonde locks looks toward her daughter. An uncertain smile is on her face. "It all depends."

Taking a cruise for the weekend was not uncommon in Veronica's family. What was uncommon was that the captain, seventeen years a man of the sea, should miss such an obstacle as an underground hill.

Over two hundred people were on the ship when it went down. Everyone survived, but a good deal of them were upset at having their getaway cut so short. Among the people trying to make contact with rescue…anyone was Veronica's father. Having given up on a cell phone signal long ago, he joined some of the other castaways in forming letters in the sand.

No way a plane is missing the word 'HELP' spelled out in ten-foot letters. Sometimes, the most clichéd methods work best.

XxXxXxXxX

Her best friend who hadn't contacted her in over a week. Trixie's wistful look changes to one of anger. She turns to Tiffany. "Say, how would you feel about a sleepover."

"Sounds nice. When?"

"Tonight."

Tiffany's mouth hangs open. After a moment, she regains her voice. "_Tonight_ tonight?"

"I know it's short notice, but I think we ought to get to know each other. I mean, that's what friends do, right?"

"Um, yeah. Right." The brown-haired girl looks overwhelmed, as well she should be.

"Oh, Tiffany, you're the best." Trixie hugs her friend once again.

"_Look at those two over there. They think we're not looking, but we are."_

From across the table sits Pat and some of his teammates. Each of them leers at the well-figured freshman embracing. Looking out of place, in terms of behavior and size, is Virgil.

"They look soooo awesome." The younger boy takes a sip of milk.

"Especially the cutie with the brown hair." Pat's comment causes Virgil to cough up the beverage.

"Whoa. You feeling all right?"

Virgil clears his throat. "Me? Yeah, I'm fine." He tries to wipe up the milk spilled on and around his tray.

"I bet you they don't stop at hugging." Another of Pat's crew speaks up, garnering Virgil's attention from the slight mess.

The freshman peers from under his glasses. "Come again?"

"Two fine ladies like that, no boyfriend, spending time together. One could get ideas."

"Wait. How do you know they don't have boyfriends?"

A shrug of manly shoulders. "News travels fast."

At that moment, Lina walks to the table, carrying a tray with a salad on it. Her thinking was 'if I don't watch my figure, then no one else will'. She never cared much for Pat's jock buddies, but couldn't do much about it; they were a package deal. Her expression perks up a bit at the stranger in their midst. "And who is this?"

"Oh, this is Virgil. He's got great hands."

Lina sits across from him, 'I'll bet he does' reverberating in her mind. She notices that the athletes are staring at the girls across the room. She stretches her leg under the table.

Virgil continues to eat. He feels something ruffling his pants. The boy looks up from his meal. He sees Lina, a hungry look on her face. She gives a predatory smile and a wink.

The young man exhales deeply. "I hate high school."


	5. Awkwardness

Chapter 5 - Awkwardness

Walking down the hall in school can serve any number of purposes: instilling fear, seeking adulation or simply trying to get from educational point 'A' to educational point 'B'. Then there's the kind of walking currently being employed by two cute freshman girls: stroll and flirt.

The dark-haired girl passes by a group of geeks, their eyes practically bulging from their heads in a cartoonish fashion. She flips her long hair at them. The smell of her berries and cream shampoo causes the boys to swoon.

Following her friend's example, the brown-haired lass flutters her eyes at a grouping of jocks. Among them is Pat, who eyes her with great hunger. She turns back around, her hair flying down her back.

She leans over to the dark-haired girl. "You're right, Trixie. This _is_ a lot of fun."

"I told you, Tiffany." Trixie exhales. "It's so nice to have someone to do this with."

"Wait." In her euphoria, Tiffany forgot a significant part of her friend's life. "I thought you had someone to do things with."

A nervous twitch tugs at the rich girl's lips. "Let's keep walking."

And so they do, passing by more interested onlookers. Two of them stand at an open locker. One of them carries a bunch of books. The other stands shocked.

"Those girls looked at us. Those girls looked at us!"

"Calm down. It's not like they saw you kill someone."

"But girls never look at us." The boy puts his hand to his mouth and grabs his compatriot with the other. "Oh, man. Do I have something in my teeth?"

"Not since you had the braces removed. Chester, you really need to tell me how you couldn't afford a house, but you could afford braces."

"A.J., what does that have to do with anything?"

The bald boy rolls his eyes as he backs into his locker door, closing it. His hands are a little full at the moment.

Another boy grabs a book from his locker as the girls walk past. Tiffany blows a kiss at him and winks.

The boy slams his locker door. Virgil doesn't look too happy.

XxXxXxXxX

It had been an eventful slumber party for Trixie and Tiffany. Raiding the (in this case, not unimpressive) fridge, watching movies, pillow fighting (which the rich girl managed to win) and gossiping.

"Wow. She really said that?" Tiffany had little, if any, interest in the goings-on of others, but in this context, she didn't mind too much.

"Yeah, and the whole cheerleading squad was behind her." Trixie erupted in laughter. Strangely, it's the kind of laughter that comes not from mockery, but from being truly happy about something.

"Whoa, that must've really hurt."

The dark-haired girl wipes a tear from her eye. "Oh, it's so nice to share this stuff with you."

"Yeah." Tiffany rocks back a little. "Wait."

"What is it?"

"I thought you had someone to do this stuff with."

Trixie clears her throat. "I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yeah. What about Veronica?"

The rich girl gets up from the bed and runs. This time, tears of sadness fall down her face. Tiffany follows her into the bathroom.

XxXxXxXxX

The raven-haired girl splashes her face with water. Behind her in the doorway is Tiffany.

"Trixie, I…I'm sorry if I upset you." She reaches her hand out for comfort, but retracts it.

Trixie looks up from the sink into the mirror. As she can see Tiffany's reflection in the mirror, she doesn't turn around.

"Veronica and her family went on vacation. We promised that we'd always keep in touch, no matter what. It's been a week and I haven't heard anything from her. I know she wouldn't just blow me off like this. I'm afraid she might be…" Her legs buckle. She grabs the sink to keep from falling. Tiffany rushes to her.

"I'm sorry, Trixie. I didn't know." The tone in her voice is one of melancholy, like she genuinely didn't know of the predicament.

The brown-haired girl wraps her arms around Trixie. Her eyes close as she rocks her friend. To her surprise, the girl caresses Tiffany's hands. Her whimpering gives way to happy moans.

Tiffany's eyes bolt open. She isn't quite sure how to react. For years, she (or, more appropriately, the guy she once was) had a yen for the girl. He'd try some nutty scheme to worm his way into her heart, but to no avail. Many times, he had longed for the moment when he'd hold her in his arms. Of course, he was a 'he' at the time.

As weirded out as he was at the prospect of being caressed by the girl of his dreams while he was a girl himself, he knew he had to do something to lift her spirits.

"Um, Trixie?"

"Yes, Tiffany?"

"What do you say that we, uh… get back to the bedroom.? We can talk about other stuff."

Trixie exhales. Tiffany reaches over and turns her around. She grabs a bit of toilet paper from the roller and dabs it on the rich girl. A smile slowly forms on Trixie's face.

"Thank you, Tiffany. I guess it's kind of silly for me to worry. She has to be okay, somewhere, right?"

"That's the spirit." Tiffany helps Trixie to her feet.

XxXxXxXxX

The two of them are back on Trixie's bed.

Tiffany rubs the girl's arm. "Are you feeling better?"

"Much, yes."

"Good." The rich girl regarded her friend with a warm look, one that Tiffany missed.

"Trixie? Do you find any of the boys at school cute?" As she, deep down, still had a thing for Trixie, Tiffany sounded a little unsure.

"Hmmm…I don't know. Some of them are, but they're too immature for me."

"Well, have you ever kissed a boy?"

"A couple of times. Felt kind of nice. So?

"So what?"

"Have _you_ ever kissed a boy?"

Tiffany sticks her tongue out. "Eeeww! No!"

A giggle from the Asian girl. "It doesn't sound too appealing to you, does it?"

"Not at all." A head shake drives the point home.

Trixie bites her lip. "Then…maybe you'd prefer…kissing a girl?"

Tiffany shrugs her shoulders. "Yeah. That'd be better." The girl finally notices Trixie crawling toward her.

"Better?" Trixie's voice is barely above a whisper. She moves closer and closer to the confused girl. Her lips meet Tiffany's.

The brown-haired girl has never felt so elated…or so unnerved. Her eyes widen to plates as Trixie lies down, her arm around Tiffany.

"G'night, Tiff'ny." The rich girl fell asleep, grasping Tiffany as if she were a stuffed animal. The girl tried to loose herself from Trixie's grip, but it was too strong.

She exhales and closes her eyes. It'd take an act of God to get out of this.

XxXxXxXxXxX

"AAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaugh!"

Tiffany sits up in the bed. She looks down at her lower half hidden under the covers. With all the blood on the sheets, one would think that the girl was shot.

"Good morning, Tiffany. What's--?" Trixie gawks at the pool on her bed. "Oh…my…God."

"What? What's wrong?" This is clearly a frightening situation for the brown-haired girl.

"You've gotten your period." There is surprising awe in the dark-haired girl's voice.

"My _what_!"

"You're becoming a woman."

Tiffany's mouth hangs open. She was not prepared for this.

"I had mine a few months ago. Hurt like crap when I went through it, too." The rich girl hops off of the bed. "Don't worry. I've got some pads in my bathroom."

The girl sits on the bed. She looks up, searching the corners of her mind. After a few moments, a memory replays…

_She and Virgil are walking through the park._

"_Is there anything I need to know about being a woman?"_

"_Not much."_

That last part echoes. A scowl forms on her pretty face. Tiffany turns slightly and notices the phone on a night table. The soiled sheets around her waist, she inches her way across the bed. She picks up the receiver and dials.

"Pick up the phone, you son of a bi…"

A click. "_Hello."_

"Good morning."

"_Timmy?"_

"No. It's Marie Antionette. Of course, it's Timmy!" She cups her hand over the mouthpiece.

"_Is there something with which you can be helped?"_

"Do you remember a conversation that took place a couple of days ago? One where I asked you if there was anything I had to know about being a woman?"

"_I think so, yes."_

"Well, you left out one little detail: getting a period!"

"_I was sure you knew about this."_

"I didn't, and I just had mine, thank you very much!"

"_Well, as long as you're prepared for what happens to your body, you'll get through this."_

"Yeah. I guess that…wait. You knew about this and you never told me!"

Nothing from Virgil's end. "_I had figured that we'd have gotten switched back before having to worry about this, but someone felt that they wanted to try it out for a while."_

"News flash: I'm the one tangled in the bloody sheets. Show some respect!"

"_I do respect you. I really do. But…"_

"But…what!" Tiffany's teeth are gritted.

"_You _did _want the experience of being a girl. This happens to be one of those…bumps on the way."_

"Bumps?" The girl stands up onto the bed. "Bumps! I want you to listen to me and listen good. I don't care if you're a boy or a girl. Don't you ever - _ever_ - talk to me again, okay?"

"_But, Ti--"_

"No. Not another word. The two of us…done. You don't get to be near me again."

"_Fine!"_ It almost sounded like the boy was crying before he hung up.

Tiffany hung up the phone. "Okay, I got them."

"Oh. Thanks. Sorry about your sheets, you know, with the…"

"Don't worry. These'll be taken care of." She notices the receiver slightly out of its cradle. "Who was that?"

"Who was who?"

"On the phone. Just now."

Tiffany waves her hand. "Oh. It was just some…nobody."


	6. Party Animals

Chapter 6 - Party…Animals

"Wait. Run that by me again?" The girl loved coming to the mall. With the diverse offering of stores, it was like paradise. However, into every paradise, some serpents must fall.

"I'm…breaking up…with you." Everyone was surprised by Pat's statement…that is, except the man himself.

"But why?"

"Lina…" His voice took on an atypical calmness. "…it seems to me like we're growing apart. People change. It's not you, it's me. I still love you. It's just that I'm not _in_ love with you." Pat's older brothers had heard every variation on the swill bilging forth from his lips. The jock felt that these comments would work in favor of a man in his family, for once.

By now, a crowd had gathered around the former couple. The girl could allow her shattered emotional stage to come out, but she managed to suck up the tears developing on her face. She balled her hand into a fist and, with a scowl, she punched Pat in the face. He reared back, a few drops of blood falling out of his nose.

The girl shook her hand to relieve the pain as she walked away. Pat turned to the crowd and wiped the blood from his face. He shrugged his shoulders. "Women."

"_You know, I couldn't help but notice you staring at that boy."_

XxXxXxXxX

"One might think you have a thing for him." The slightly teasing tone in Trixie's voice sent an uncomfortable chill down Tiffany's spine.

She'd been staring at Virgil for quite some time. Given this morning's painful episode, one couldn't fault her for her anger.

"What's so wrong with him? He seems nice."

Tiffany doesn't even raise her head. "He hurt me."

"What, physically?"

"No. Emotionally. All I wanted was some time to myself and he was always there, like a rash. A guy like that is trouble."

Trixie looked on as her friend continued to sulk. "Well, come on. There's a party tonight. I want to look good and I know you do too." She took Tiffany by the hand and walked off.

XxXxXxXxX

Looking up at the two girls was Virgil. He took a deep breath. 'Damnit, Tiffany', he mumbled under his breath. He walked away, passing a number of stores where he recognized some of the students who were working or socializing. In essence, the mall was like school without the education…which seemed a redundancy to anyone who lingered on it long enough.

He headed toward the escalator. Tiffany was the furthest thing from his mind. He just wants to clear his mind. Riding the 'down' escalator was Lina, who, judging from the bags she carried, dealt with the break-up the best way she knew: shop her cares away. He missed her, but she didn't miss him.

"Hey!" Virgil turned and shook his head. He was almost sure he heard something.

Lina walked up the escalator, which earned her quite a few glares from the patrons she shoved by as they rode it down.

"Hey!" Her exclamation was louder, getting the boy's attention. He saw her and groaned. She tried to go back up, but a woman of significant corpulence blocked her path. She grumbled and rode it down.

The girl got off and called out to Virgil. "Wait right there."

Another groan from the bespectacled young man. "Do I have a choice?", he said to no one in particular. "Wait. Yes, I do."

He starts to walk away. "Hey, sweetness." Lina is right there in front of him.

"Hi, Lina." There is very little enthusiasm in his voice.

"You know about me and Pat, right?"

"No. Not really."

"Well, we're no longer together." She ran a finger along his chest. "That's good news for you."

"Right. Good. Listen, I have to get going. There's this…guy I have to meet in this place for this thing. I hope you understand."

He tried to slip away, but Lina grabs his shirt and pulls him back. "Now, there's a party going on at Tricia's house. You know, the girl with the mole? If you're not there, I'll come looking for you. I know where you live."

"No, you don't!"

"Well…I can find out." She pulls his head toward hers and kisses him. The girl walks off.

XxXxXxXxX

The remainder of the day saw Trixie and Tiffany raiding as many as eight different stores, searching for the right outfit. It had been rumored for a while that one of those stores, Everygirl, would be having a going out of business sale. Their material was so beautiful, but the prices were so insanely high, only a select few could ever afford them.

The rich girl was confident that the party would be just the thing to lift the brown-haired girl's spirits. If one could pinpoint the moment of her lightening up, it would have to be the facial that she received. It was as if her troubles were being scrubbed away…that sounded so familiar to the girl, but she couldn't figure out why. From that point, the events of this morning were meaningless to the brown haired girl.

Soon, the two girls were on their way to the party, looking stunning in their blouse and skirt combos.

Tiffany adjusted her pink top, which seemed to be showing a lot of cleavage. "Who did you say was throwing this party?"

"It's this girl in my chem lab; the one with the mole." Trixie pulled her friend close. "Try not to say anything about it. She's kinda sensitive."

"Okay. What's her name, by the way? I think I should know whose house we're gonna be trashing."

The dark-haired girl giggled. "Her name is Tricia Mole (read: moh-LAY)."

"Interesting."

XxXxXxXxX

A number of teenagers gathered into a modest house, from which loud music blared. Standing at the door was a girl with dark brown hair in an elevated ponytail. She was wearing a silk blouse and a light blue skirt. The people that pass her were quick to wave and say very little.

Trixie and Tiffany made their way to the door. Tiffany went in first. "Hey, Trish--aaaah!" The girl was transfixed by the dime-sized mole on the host's face. "Um…thanks for the party. I couldn't be mole happy-- _more_! More happy. I'm just so emblemished-- embarrassed." She turned away. "I'll just be going now."

Trixie grabbed her shoulder. "Don't rush off." She turned to the scowling girl. "Don't worry. Tricia. "She's cool. She just…" Trixie whispered in her ear, noting the guys walking past them.

Tricia nodded. "I understand." Trixie pulled her friend in. "Sorry."

Tiffany gave a nervous smile. "Me too."

XxXxXxXxX

Virgil went up the path to his house. Between thinking about what he'd done to Tiffany and walking around Dimmsdale, it had been a pretty uneventful day. All he wanted to do was sleep the rest of the weekend away.

Before he could reach the doorknob, a blur forced him to the ground. It was Lina, her hair brushing over his face, her hands holding his arms.

She smiled. "I told you I could find out."

"Mom! Dad! Hel--!" The words he could feel rising from his throat were replaced by Lina's rampaging tongue.

After a minute, she stopped to take a breath and tries again. Virgil bit down, causing her to yell and rear back.

"What the hell do you want from me!"

"To be honest, I'm a very needy girl. I want someone who will love me unconditionally, no matter what my mood is."

"Then might I suggest a puppy?"

Lina shook her head. "There are some things you just can't do with a puppy."

"You don't need someone to love you. You need help."

"That which I need is less important than that which I want." She grinned deviously. This spider was not letting her fly get away.

Virgil's expression changed from fear to one of acceptance. "Call me crazy, but maybe this can work. I mean, you want someone to love and I've never really had a girl, before, so…this could really work out."

"Oh, I knew you'd see things the right way."

"And maybe we could go to that party you mentioned earlier. Who's throwing it again?"

"This girl in my gym class with the honkin' mole on her face. I mean, can't she get that thing removed?"

"Oh. Any idea where she might be? I mean, you found my place. Hers shouldn't be too challenging."

"I was there before for a play date when we were younger. River Drive."

"Now, come on. Give Daddy a kiss."

"You know I will." Lina puckered her lips and lowered them to Virgil. He opened his mouth and bit down. She screamed and caressed her mouth. He pushed her off of him and ran down the street.

XxXxXxXxX

As people socialized, the music continued to blast. It was some kind of dance beat, but then, they all start to sound alike after a while.

Some of the jocks formed a block around the punch bowl. One of them opened a bottle and poured it into the punch bowl. Even if the offender could have been seen, the label of the beverage could not; the container was inside a brown paper bag.

At that moment, Trixie and Tiffany passed by the cluster of guys, each of them wearing a wide grin. One of them stepped forward. "Would you ladies like some punch?"

Trixie waved her hand. "I'm not that thirsty."

Tiffany shrugged. "Why not?"

She took the ladle and poured herself a cup. The guys watch as she raises it to her lips. The liquid sloshed about in the cup.

"Have you seen my mother's vase?" Tricia's announcement startled Tiffany into dropping the cup.

"Oh! I'm so sorry." Tiffany grabbed a few napkins and crouched to dry the spot. The host joined her. "Maybe it's under the kitchen sink."

Tricia gave a confused glare. "Why would it be under there?"

"Well, I saw this movie, and it was there to keep it from being broken, so…"

A blonde girl burst in. "It's happened."

Tricia stood up. "What's happened?"

"Everygirl's going out of business! Everything is 60 percent off!"

Tricia stomped her foot in anger and walked off. It's not like she could leave her house for a sale. Her parents would be home in a few hours and if they saw their home in such a state…

Trixie's eyes goggled at the news. "Oh my…Oh, I gotta get there." She shakes her hands. "I've gotta get there." She rushed toward the door. A gasp escaped her lips. She turned to Tiffany, now holding a fresh cup of punch in her hand. "Sorry, Tiffany, but this is, like, a once in a lifetime thing. Will you be alright?"

Tiffany waved her friend off. "Don't worry, Trixie", she said, hoisting the plastic cup. "I can take care of myself." She took a sip.

XxXxXxXxX

"Mmmmmmm. You know, this punch is really, really good." Given that Tiffany has had about six cups, people weren't about to dispute her on the matter. Her slurring speech, however, was fast becoming an issue.

She stumbled over to the punch bowl and dips a cup in. The other guests had a glass, but stopped. Whatever was added wasn't that appealing. She took a sip of it, but, due to her lack of coordination, most of it ended up on her blouse.

"How clumsy of me." The girl stands up, as best as she can. "My blouse is all dirty." She took it off, revealing her dark blue bra. Tiffany noticed the thumping music. "Oh, man. I love this song!"

XxXxXxXxX

To look at Virgil, one wouldn't peg him as the athletic type. Not that he was out of shape…just scrawny. However, one shouldn't count out how he'll react to someone pursuing him. With the exception of the bus ride that took him part of the way across town, he ran a good distance toward River Drive.

It was typical suburbia; each house looking like the next. He had an idea of what kind of house to look for…but did this street have to have so damn many of them?

XxXxXxXxX

Loud, bass-heavy techno music. The cheers of curious and amused high schoolers. These sounds were very prominent in the living room of Tricia's home.

Standing on a table was Tiffany, gyrating with the music and swinging her top around. You know, some people just can't hold their spiked punch.

The girl let the blouse fly into the crowd, where it landed on a faux plant. She absorbed the sounds of the crowd. At that moment, it was all about having fun.

With a fist in the air and a "Whoo!", she lost her balance and fell off the table. One of the watchers was right there to catch her.

"Hey, there. I've got you."

"Oh, thanks." She kicked her legs slightly. "I guess that stable wasn't table." A girlish giggle.

"Sounds like you've had a little too much to drink. You need to rest it off." The young man walked toward the stairs.

Tiffany grabbed onto him. "Oh, you're so good to me."

"I know. And call me Pat."

XxXxXxXxX

A knock at the door interrupted the reverie. Tricia went to open it.

Hunched over and breathing heavily was Virgil. "May I help you?"

The boy put a hand up. "Tired. Ran…so far." He took a few steps inside.

"Well, I know people were dying to be here, but…"

Virgil took a swig of punch. The girl with the mole walked behind him. "I think that punch is spiked."

He spit most of it out. A worried look appeared on his face. He grabbed Tricia's shoulders. "Did you happen to see a girl named Tiffany here?"

"Oh, you must mean the life of the party. Drank like six cups of punch and did a table dance."

"And nobody stopped her?"

Tricia bit her lip. "Not really." Virgil rolled his eyes. He looked over and saw a pink blouse resting on a faux house plant. "Don't worry. Your girlfriend went upstairs to sleep it off."

"She's not my girlfr--" His tone of regret switched gears to anxious. "Did anyone go up there with her?"

"Yeah. Pat, I think." The color drained from the boy's face. "He took her up..." Tricia turned back to where Virgil was standing…but no one's there now.

XxXxXxXxX

The master bedroom, a very fancy place, especially with its bed of satin sheets.

Pat laid Tiffany down. She stretched, every feminine inch of her being glanced over by the jock.

"I'm having fun with you." She kicked her legs.

"You want to have even more fun?"

"Yeah." He climbed on top of her and started kissing her. She giggled as he worked his way from her lips to her neck. The giggling ceased, however, when he went to work on her chest. "Okay, that's a little low." She tried to push him away, but her arms were like spaghetti.

"Oh, don't be like that." He reached behind her and grabbed the hooks of her bra. As much as she didn't want this, she was just as concerned about the bra. Tiffany still hadn't gotten the hang of putting one on herself.

She shook her head, her consciousness returning somewhat. "Help!"

"Shit. Why are these things so hard to take off?"

The door busted open. "What's going on?"

Tiffany peeked out. "Virgil?"

Pat turned to the door. "Oh, hey. Don't mind us. We're just having some fun."

The boy saw Tiffany under him. "I think you should let her up."

"Don't worry, bruh. You'll get a turn."

"I don't want a turn." Irritation poured from Virgil's voice. "I want you to stop."

Pat snorted. "So, what, you want to do this _with_ me?" The bespectacled boy balled his hands into fists. The guy in bed had some nerve.

Virgil walked over to Pat and slammed his fist on the jock's back.

He yelled out. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Running out of nice ways to tell you this. Now either you get the hell off of her or I make you." Virgil was surprised at what came out of his mouth. He knew that he didn't stand a chance with a guy like this.

"You're gonna make me?" Pat stood up and approached him.

The smaller boy nervously took a fighting stance. Pat started to laugh. He looked back to Tiffany. "Don't worry, babe. This shouldn't take long."

As Pat turned back around, Virgil threw a punch. To his surprise, it connected with Pat's nose. The jock let out a yell and dropped to the floor, knees first.

Virgil walked around him and picked Tiffany off of the bed. He carried her to the door.

Pat grabbed onto his pant leg. "I thought we were tight, you and me."

A foot knocked him backwards against the bed. Tiffany was high enough that she could get in a kick.

XxXxXxXxX

Tiffany held on to Virgil as he carried her downstairs. Tricia ran up to the two of them.

"What happened?"

"Oh. She…partied a little too hard. I'm just gonna take her home." He walked the girl over to the plant and took her blouse. With a free hand, he turned the knob on the door and his foot opened it.

"And by the way, you might want to have someone remove that garbage in the bedroom."

XxXxXxXxX

It took quite of bit of walking (and a bus ride), but Virgil got Tiffany home. Thankfully, her parents were already asleep. Even more so was the fact that a spare key was under the mat in case of emergencies.

Ever the gentleman, Virgil carried the girl up the stairs and to her bedroom. He set her down in her bed and tucked her in. He wasn't sure what else to do, she being asleep and all. He placed Tiffany's blouse at the foot of her bed.

As he stared at her, he mused to himself, 'I probably don't deserve him, but I do want him to be happy.' He puts his middle and index fingers together and kisses them. He places the 'kiss' on Tiffany's lips and turns for the door.

The girl stirred a little in her bed. She saw a blurry image walk out of her room, and heard the words, 'Good night, Timmy' as the door closed.

She exhaled slightly and closed her eyes.

XxXxXxXxX

The sunlight peeked in through the window. Tiffany turned in her bed. Her eyes bolted open. She looks around; she doesn't remember coming back last night. Her hand finds her head.

"Ohhhhh. Why did I drink that punch? Punch…"

She jumped out of bed and looked through the papers on her night table. She picked one up and dialed on the telephone.

The phone rings…and rings. A yawn from the other end. "_Hello?"_


	7. Points of View

Chapter 7 - Points of View

An unusual feeling of euphoria came over Trixie whenever she went shopping. In some ways, it was like a drug…her drug of choice. She laid in her bed, surrounded by the fruits of her latest trip.

So caught up was she in shopping, she'd usually forget about what she was doing or even, who she was with. The only person who could keep pace with her was Veronica.

Veronica. Such a good friend.

Wait…friend. The rich girl's eyes popped open, fear on her face. She sat up in her bed.

"Tiffany!"

XxXxXxXxX

The sun shined down on the museum. People were walking into the building. It was indeed open on Sundays.

Virgil sat on the steps. He looked around to see if anyone familiar was coming. A blur of pink and lavender approached him. The boy's face lit up.

"Tiffany." He ran down the stairs to hug the girl. He composes himself and put a hand behind his head. "I'm glad you're all right."

"Yeah". She shrugged. "I guess I just needed some rest."

Virgil extended his hand. "Well, shall we go in?"

"Surely." They walked up the stairs together.

XxXxXxXxX

Trixie hurried down the street. Granted, she could have just been chauffeured to where she wanted to go, but it just didn't feel right. The girl felt that, with Tiffany, she could just forget about being rich or popular and could just…be. Only one other person made her feel like this.

"_Oh, she said she was going to the history museum. She was with a boy." _The statement from Tiffany's mother, especially the last part, echoed in her mind. Trixie hated to admit it to herself, but her feelings for the girl ran deeper than mere friendship. After all, she was unsure of how people would react.

Why did love have to be so complicated?

XxXxXxXxX

The two teenagers glance at the miniature idol, protected by a glass case. It hadn't been too hard retracing their steps.

"Well, there it is." Virgil adjusts his glasses. "Perspectus Inversi."

"I can't believe this little statue was capable of…" Tiffany motions to her body. "…this."

"It shouldn't be too hard to switch us back, I hope."

The girl blanched at the comment. After the ordeals of the last couple of days, 'I hope' is the very last thing she wanted to hear.

"Timmy?" The girl was snapped out of her fear-induced daze. She shook her head.

"Yes?"

"I need a hand with this glass case." Virgil grabbed the side of the case. Tiffany hurried to join him, placing her hands on the case. Their fingers met for a moment. She smiled but did not lose her concentration as the two of them gently set the case down.

Virgil straightened up. "Now, I think I grabbed the statue first."

Tiffany puts a hand to her head. "No. We…we grabbed it at the same time, didn't we?'

"Yes, we did. I can't believe I forgot."

They walk over to the stand, taking positions facing each other, with the idol in the middle.

"Now we have to grab it at the same time. Are you ready?"

The girl wiggles her fingers. "Ready."

"On three. One…two…three." The hands of the teens shot out and, thankfully, grabbed the idol at the same time. One would've expected this to be a surprising moment, full of bright lights and celestial music.

Unfortunately, that stuff only happened in the movies. Here, all it added up to was two teens stuck to a miniature statue.

The boy looked over at the girl. "Timmy?"

"Tootie?"

"I don't understand. We did everything right." Virgil put his hand to his head. Unfortunately, it was the one holding the statue. Tiffany yelled as she was pulled to him. The force of the tug caused them to fall to the floor.

Virgil looks up at Tiffany. "Sorry about that."

"Hey, I did it to you", the girl stated with some remorse. The two of them straightened up and laid against the marble base.

Virgil took a huge breath. "We're still like this, so, until the inevitable moment when someone finds us and we're forced to explain why we're stuck, what do you want to do?"

Tiffany shrugged her shoulders. "We can always talk."

The boy raised an eyebrow. "Timmy, you want to talk?"

Her tone turns defensive. "It's not like we can go anywhere for a while without raising some questions."

"Right. You want to start or should I?"

"Ladies first." An awkward silence between them.

"Did you mean me or you?" Virgil placed his free hand to his chest.

"I was kind of shooting for you."

"Okay. So…Lina jumped me last night…in front of my house."

"No way…no, actually, I believe you. She seems a little…off."

"What, you're saying that a girl wouldn't want any of this?" Virgil showed off his physique, or lack thereof. Tiffany stifled a laugh as she rolled her eyes. "Anyway, it got me to thinking last night that if I hadn't stopped pursuing you all those years ago, that's how I would've ended up: love-starved and desperate."

"I sort of thought of you like that when we were younger. I have to admit, now that I'm older…I kinda miss it."

"Timmy, are you saying that you'd want me to jump you in front of your house and molest you?"

Tiffany twitches her lips. "Well, not in front of my house. Maybe, if you were hiding in a closet…"

"Tell you what: if we ever switch back, it's a date. And, by the way, I'm really sorry about not telling you about…" Virgil fumbled for the right words. "…your monthly visitor. That was incredibly mean."

"And I had just forgotten about it. I forgive you, though. Besides, it's over now…did you say monthly?"

Virgil nodded nervously. "Yes."

"Whoa. I'm sorry."

"It's not like it's your fault."

"When you're feeling…not that great, because of it, you can call me and we can talk, or you can scream at me. Maybe I can come over; we can have some cranberry juice…"

The dark-haired boy giggled like the girl he once was. "I'll keep that in mind."

Unbeknownst to the two of them, a slight glow emanated from the carving.

XxXxXxXxX

The last couple of days had been simply wonderful in the mind of the dark-haired girl running up the steps of the history museum. The issue had been bouncing around in her head, but now she was sure of it: she had to confront her feelings.

She stormed into the building. The look on her face strongly suggested that she wasn't to be deterred from what she wanted.

XxXxXxXxX

"She kissed you?" Virgil had chatted Tiffany up about the time she spent with Trixie, but it was this detail up on which the boy was hung.

"On the lips."

Virgil grimaced a little. "How was it?"

"You know, I had dreamed of the moment for so long, and then it happened. It was kind of like…kissing a cousin. A pretty cute cousin I don't get to see very often, but a cousin, nonetheless."

"I knew there was something unusual about her."

"Hey, don't go jumping to conclusions. Trixie's a good person. She's just vulnerable. I imagine that, with the right kind of people in her life, she'll be all right."

As if on cue, Trixie spotted Virgil sitting against the marble base of Perspectus Inversi. "You!"

Virgil looked out toward the opening and saw the rich girl stomping down the hallway.

She walked in. "Do you know where Tiffany is?"

The boy's eyes darted to his right, the brown-haired girl hidden behind the base. "Um, she's…around." Virgil rolled his eyes back to divert suspicion away from his stuck friend.

"But not here? 'Cause this'd be really awkward."

"What wou--?" The boy didn't get a chance to finish. Trixie glommed her lips onto his own, his free hand slapping the cold, hard floor. She wanted to prove, once and for all, that her feelings were…acceptable. The statue, which had flickered on and off up to this point, started to glow as brightly as it had before. The light enveloped the room, potentially blinding its occupants.

XxXxXxXxX

What felt like an eternity had only been a few moments. The Perspectus Inversi was safe on the mantle, protected by glass.

On the floor around it were a boy and a girl. They were holding hands. More unusual was that there was another girl on the girl's lips. The girl's eyes burst open. She moaned uncomfortably. This caused the other girl to open her eyes.

She reared back and wiped her lips. "What are you doing here? What am _I_ doing here?" She stood up and rushed out, gagging.

The girl looked over to the boy, concern on her face. "Timmy?"

"Tootie?" She nodded. The two of them hugged. Timmy stood up and extended a hand to the girl, helping her to her feet. They looked at the idol in the glass case, then toward each other.

"Are you all right?"

She looked deep into his eyes. "I don't think I'll ever be more all right than now."

Breaking up the moment was a curator in the halls. "So, I see you've been looking at Perspectus Inversi."

The teens murmured words of compliance.

"It's said to have the power to change people and reveal great truths."

Timmy and Tootie couldn't help but gape at this news.

"Of course, that's just speculatory. We're not sure what it does. That's why it's under that glass."

"That's a very good place for it, ma'am." Tootie nodded vigorously. Timmy echoed her action.

"Well, have a nice day, you two." The woman walked away. The two of them looked to each other.

He cleared his throat. "What do you say we get out of here, away from the reality-altering statue?"

They walked away… "Great idea, although…" …but she stopped in the doorway.

"What?"

"We never did find items to write about for history class. Now's as good a time as any."

"But it's Sunday!" A distinct whine infiltrated the boy's voice.

"Better to do it than on a Monday." Tootie punctuated the statement with a coy flip of the hair as she walked off. With a snort, Timmy chased after her.

XxXxXxXxX

Trixie lied on her bed, facing away from the door. She couldn't believe how embarrassed she was; kissing a random girl in the museum. The girl had long since given up trying to figure out how and why the incident occurred. She considered it fortunate that no one had seen her and saw fit to assume.

A knock at her door interrupted her moment of sulking. Her mother had tried to get through to her, but without specific details, there was little hope of her daughter's problem being solved.

"Hello? Trixie?" The girl perked up. That certainly wasn't her mother's voice. She turned around to face the door. It opened, revealing Veronica. She looked a little rugged, but it was definitely her. The more of the blonde Trixie saw, the wider her smile grew.

She ran toward the girl and wrapped her in a hug. The raven-haired girl let a few tears go in the process.

Veronica pat her on the back. "I'm glad to see you too, T."

"Oh, V." Trixie let go of her friend. "When I didn't hear from you, I thought that something had happened, and…" She grabbed her even tighter than before.

"Don't worry. I'm here now. I'll always be here." Veronica's tone was comforting, like a mother calming her child after a nightmare.

Trixie looked up to her friend and smiled. With a 'what the hell' look on her face, she took Veronica's head in her hands and planted a kiss on her lips. She pulled away, leaving a surprised expression on the blonde girl's face.

"V…", Trixie started, caressing her friend's arms with her fingers. "I've got something to tell you."

XxXxXxXxX

Timmy and Tootie walked down the hall the next day. True to her wishes, they did find items about which to write. Now (for him, at least), it was a matter of actually writing the paper. They ended up on the way to the cafeteria.

"I'm kinda still hung up on that: 'reveal great truths'."

"So, nothing was revealed to you during our little experience?" The girl almost sounded angry.

"I know this much: women have it rough."

"That is a greater truth than you will ever know."

"Still…" He looks down at his chest and cupped the area where a pair of breasts would be. "I miss the girls."

"'Girls'?!" Tootie couldn't help but laugh. "What, were you all set to name them? We can always go back to the museum if you miss them so much…"

Timmy put his hands up in defense. "No! No, no."

"'Girls,'" she shot derisively.

"Besides, they look much better on you." He wrapped an arm around her and nuzzled her cheek with his own. Tootie cracked a smile at this. She thought to herself that, maybe, he was starting to see her as she had always seen him: just what the other person needed to get through life. Someone to love.

XxXxXxXxX

The two of them walked through the cafeteria, looking for a place to eat. Tootie stopped at seeing Trixie and Veronica at a table. The girls occupied two chairs together, and there were plenty of empty ones around them.

"Let's sit there." Tootie points at the table.

"Are you sure? I mean, can't we find another--"

"Remember what you told me about Trixie needing the right kind of people around her?"

"Yes."

She took his hand and dragged him over. "I like to think we fit into that category."

The girls continued talking. They soon noticed a shadow cast over them. "Do you mind if we sit here?"

Trixie and Veronica exchanged a look, then turned to their 'guest'. The blonde spoke up. "In the old days, we'd have laughed you out of the room."

"But we realize that that would come off as childish and pointless now." Timmy and Tootie looked very surprised at Trixie's statement. Perhaps there was hope for her. She extends a hand to a pair of empty seats. "You may sit here."

The boy and girl obliged. Trixie fixed her gaze on Timmy as he sat. He noticed her staring.

"What is it?"

The brunette shakes her finger at him. "You remind me of this girl…"

Timmy smiled nervously. "Thank you?" He leaned over to Tootie. "You don't think that…?"

She pats his hand. "It's better we not dwell on it."

Timmy shrugged his shoulders and dug into his lunch. Trixie and Veronica resumed their excited talking. Tootie sat back in her chair, looking content at her surroundings.

This was going to be a good year.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: I've been interested in this kind of story for a while now. It was a good deal of fun marrying it to "Fairly Oddparents". And to think it all started with a piece of fanart: http:// www. deviantart. com / deviation / 20071625 / (you have to move the spaces, of course).

Thanks for reading and reviewing and have a nice day.


End file.
